


The Promised Price

by Jester85



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sexual Bribery, blowjob, naughty boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jester85/pseuds/Jester85
Summary: In which Tom gets a not-so-unpleasant surprise about how far Harrison is willing to go to get what he wants.





	The Promised Price

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand-alone unconnected to my other works. In this universe, Tom and Haz are just BFFs until Tom dares Haz to do something and Haz takes him up on it.
> 
> I guess this could be viewed as ever so slightly dubcon, kinda sorta maybe. They're both drunk. I don't consider it such, but maybe someone does? Idk.

It's one of the perks of being back on native soil, Tom decides, lower drinking age.

Of course, he's twenty-one, so he can legally drink in the States too, but getting carded and interrogated and viewed with blatant suspicion in bars and clubs and restaurants is a demeaning enough experience that most of the time he doesn't bother.

It is, he muses sourly as he knocks back another gulp of his Guinness, not unlike striking out when he tries to pull with girls who think he's fifteen.

And well-meaning Hemsworth taking him under his wing and buying his beers for him, while he appreciated Thor's generosity, hadn't exactly done wonders for his sense of manhood.

Which is why Thomas Stanley Holland finally feels right in his element here, at Annabel's Mayfair Club, an elegant private club with starlit dance floor, the kind of place where you could rub elbows with the rich and famous.

Or, if you're like him, just be tucked discreetly away in your private reserved room with your own little inner circle, at the moment consisting of Lord Josh of House Bespoke, and Haz of course, because always Haz.

Sure, it's a little pricey, and a little decadent, and not really the kind of thing he usually treats himself to, but he's tired and he's back in London, and damn it, he wants a drink without feeling like he's in a police line-up.

He's loose-limbed and relaxed, sprawled back on couch cushions with long legs spread out wide in front of him in a way that would probably look totally inviting if there were any interested girls around---and now he's second-guessing his selection of a private room---and Haz is lounging to his right, and Josh has gone tottering off with a mumbled g'night.

For a moment, it's just Tom&Haz, lounging decadently, heads bobbing slightly in time with the pulse of the music wafting in from the starry dance floor outside, and Tom feels content.

So of course Haz has to choose this moment of companionable silence to get chatty.

"So, you'll come, right?"

Tom tips his head back with a long-suffering groan.  "Haaaaaaz, that's just... _really_ not my thing."

"But it won't be as much fun without you there!" Harrison protests, pulling himself more upright, long long legs tucking up crossed at the knees, resting elbow right behind Tom's shoulder and turning on the full power of his pleading Haz eyes that Tom can't say no to.

He can say no.  He is a boy no longer.  He is a strong, independent young man.  He is an Avenger.

Haz can pout, but his will is far stronger.  Far.  Stronger.

As long as he doesn't look the other boy in the face.  Which Haz is making difficult to avoid, as he somehow keeps getting closer.  Or maybe Tom is just buzzed enough that Haz looks too close.  Either way, he notices the flush of drink on Haz's forehead and cheeks, the paleness accentuating the color of his eyes, and Tom looks away with a little shiver.

It's just Haz.

"You go ahead, Haz.  I'm sure it'll be brilliant."

"It'd be a lot more brilliant if my best friend would come with me."

And _seriously, Haz?  Way to lay down the guilt trip._

"We don't have to do _everything_ together."

"But it's more fun that way!"

 _More fun for you maybe_ , Tom thinks, then feels a little pang of guilt.  Of course Haz is his best friend.  Of course he loves Haz.  But he doesn't see why Haz can't just go to the Bespoke fashion show on his own---hell, he went off to Germany and Austria without Tom ~~and Tom wasn't living on Instagram for updates~~ and right now he feels vaguely horny and is rethinking his life choices of shutting himself away in here with clingy drunk Haz.

"What do I have to do to persuade you to come with me?" Harrison is asking, his breath feeling very close to Tom's ear in a way that totally doesn't make it tingle.

Tom needs to get laid.  He wishes he had a girl in here with him.  His hand rubs idly up and down his thigh. 

"You'll be fine," he says, and why does his voice sound so soft?  Looking up at the intricate patterns on the ceiling makes him feel dizzy, so he keeps doing it.  He can feel Haz's body warmth at his side, and it feels too intimate.

"Pleeeeeaaaase," Haz whines in his ear, laying his tousled head on Tom's shoulder, and yea Drunk Haz is officially Clingy Haz.  "It's not the same without you."

Somehow Haz's hand has found its way onto Tom's knee.  Tom kind of wants to push it off.  He also kind of wants it to go higher, and he doesn't know how to make either happen without it being terminally awkward and potentially messing up the most important friendship ~~relationship~~ in his life, so he sits and lets his thoughts swim.

"You must want something," Haz perks up, getting challenging now, pale eyes lighting up with mischief--- _like fireworks,_ Tom thinks hazily---"I am not above bribery.  Be warned."

Later, Tom can follow the sage advice of Jamie Foxx and blame it on the alcohol.  Or Haz being way too close and his eyes being pretty. 

In any case, Mind of Tom chooses this opportune moment to blurt out, "Blow me."

Haz stills at that.  Tom stills too, suddenly wondering if his best friend is about to run screaming from the room because Stupid Drunk Tom asked his best (male) friend for a blowjob.

What he does not expect, is for Haz to get a calculating look in his eyes, pulling away a little but not far, settling onto his elbow next to Tom's shoulder and musingly pondering, "So if I blew you right now, in this room, you'd come to Josh's show with me?"

Mind of Tom weighs his options with as much careful consideration as alcohol and the additional lightheadedness he'll try to blame it for later will allow. 

Which means he basically decides he really kinda wants a blowjob right now, and if Haz is actually offering, then, well...

"Yes."

Haz giggles a little incredulously at that, but doesn't lose that shrewd, pondering look on his face.  "What, right here?" he presses.

Tom takes a long pull from his bottle of Guinness, eyeing Haz over the rim and not missing Haz's gaze tracking the bob of his throat as he swallows.  "I'm not bringing a floozy like you home just for a sloppy drunk blowjob."

He means it as a jest, but that competitive fire sparks in Haz's eyes, and oh it's on now, and Tom is glad he's already sitting down, because Tom is up off the couch and somehow neatly folding up his long, lanky body at Tom's feet and pushing his legs even farther apart, settling down between them and smirking up at Tom below long lashes.

Tom's a little frozen, suddenly feeling set adrift in uncharted territory, not sure what to do next, but Haz makes the move for him, gently prying the bottle out of his hand and setting it on the table.

"Wouldn't want you to drop this," the taller boy says with a smirk.

And Tom still kind of feels like this is a dare, the kind of competitive bullshit they've pulled since they were kids, at any minute Haz is gonna burst out laughing and rib Tom for weeks about how Tom was shitfaced enough to proposition him in the back of a club, but Haz is rubbing his hands up Tom's thighs and surging up between his legs, and Tom finds himself sliding a little down the couch as long dexterous fingers undo the loop in his belt.

"Sooo....."

"Yes, we're really doing this.  And don't think I'm not holding you to that promise, Thomas."

And whoa, the sudden command in Harrison's voice totally doesn't make his pants a little tighter.  Something Harrison notices too, because suddenly hands are rubbing up, maddeningly close on both sides of his bulge but not touching.

"Haz....damn it...."

And then Haz's palm is rubbing him through his trousers, and Tom practically levitates up off the couch, and he must be shitfaced, because being touched through layers of fabric should not feel that good.

"Got quite a problem going on down here, mate," Haz says playfully, and Tom groans.

"Then _do something_ about it, you fuck."

There's that challenging fire again, and nimble fingers unsnapping his belt and unzipping his pants.  "Should be nicer to the bloke who's about to have your cock in his mouth.  Tsk.  Tsk.  Teeth are a thing, you know."

That makes Tom go still, and Haz huffs a laugh.  "Good boy."

Tom arches up off the couch when Haz draws him forth out of his boxers, pumping his already hard cock in smooth, firm strokes, studying it idly.  He's looking at it but making no move to blow yet, and Tom suddenly feels a sliver of doubt.

"Haz, you....you don't have to...."

"A promise is a promise," Haz says, gently folding the foreskin down.

"Yea, but....ahhhhh!"  Haz has just planted a slow, sweet, lingering kiss on the tip of his cock, and Tom arches his back, head craned back and seeing stars.

"Like that, did you?" Haz huffs from below, and then with no further adieu, he takes Tom fully into his mouth, head bobbing slowly up and down, enveloping Tom's dick in wet, swirling, sucking sensations that have him gasping for breath and clutching on Harrison's hair for purchase.

"Ow, Tom, my hair...."

"Sorry!  Sorry...."

A little indignant huff, and Haz is back to business and Tom is so, so grateful.

The ceiling makes him dizzy, and he keeps looking, fingers massaging in Haz's soft tousled hair while the other boy's head bobs up and down, and fuck this is going to be embarrassing because he's not going to last long.

Haz's hands are yanking his pants down below his hips and running up his thighs, gripping and anchoring him in place, the wet slurping sounds mixing with the pounding pulse of the dance floor outside, and Tom can't hold on.

"Haz....Haz.....fuck, _Haz!"_

Haz gives a small surprised grunt as Tom's dick explodes in his mouth, but not only does he not let go, he pins Tom firmly in place and keeps up every he's wrung every last drop.

He finally releases with a pop, and Tom just reclines bonelessly against the cushions, staring at the ceiling and not wanting to move ever again.

From somewhere near and yet far away....."Like that, did you?"

"You...." Tom struggles to find the words, partly from being drunk, partly from just getting his soul sucked out through his dick, "Are really good at that."

Haz wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, turning a little pink.  "Thanks, I guess."

"Have....have you done that before?"

Haz fixes him with a _look._ "I wouldn't suck just anyone's dick for company at a fashion show, if that's what you're getting at."

Tom ponders that for a moment, his mind too fuzzy to pick up what Harrison's laying down, or maybe not knowing how to respond to it, so he just chuckles a little nervously.  "Way to make a guy feel special, Haz."

And there's something a little guarded and evasive when Haz runs a hand through his hair and glances away.  "Yea, I guess you are."

Tom realizes they're both blushing, and he's reaching for his bottle and Haz slides out from between his legs and stands, and there's a pretty unmistakable bulge going on down there.

"Oh!  Uh....should I....I mean.....do you want me to...."

"Don't worry about it," Haz says offhandedly, which strikes Tom as a little unfair, and he knows how frustrating boners can be, and he just took another swig, so there's still plenty of "Blame It On The Alcohol" room for plausible deniability when he catches Haz's wrist. 

"Haz.  C'mere."

It's a little awkward, two drunk boys maneuvering onto a couch, but Tom has Haz's lanky body in his arms, Haz straddling him now, looping his arms around Tom's neck, and Tom's hands settling on his hips, securing him in place, and _why doesn't this feel more weird?_

And then, feeling bold with drink, he moves one hand to press against the frankly impressive bulge in Haz's trousers, and Haz closes his eyes and _groans,_ and Tom has his first fleeting suspicion that they might not be getting out of this room anytime soon tonight.

*** * ***

Tom opens one bleary eye sometime in the early afternoon the next day, the faint vestiges of a hangover throbbing in his temple.

He's in his own bed in his own house and, he shortly realizes, is naked.

The second thing he registers is Haz's pale eyes looking into his own, the taller boy's hopelessly tousled head resting on the other pillow.  Sheets are drawn over him but not enough to hide that he is as naked as Tom.

Tom wracks his brain, and bleary fragmented images come drifting back, Haz's cock, hot and heavy in his hand, Haz thrusting into his grip on his lap in the club, then later stumbling together into the back of a cab and exchanging sloppy drunk kisses like the world might end if they stopped, and finally crashing into Tom's house and slamming the door behind him, shedding clothes all through the house and into his bedroom, where....well, decidedly less-than-platonic activities took place.

Tom shifts a bit, and winces at the sharp twinge down below.  _That_ had certainly been a new experience.

But, from what else he remembers about last night, Haz has reason to feel the same.

They just lay and silently stare at each other for a moment that feels like several ages of Middle Earth, seemingly neither knowing what to say. 

"Breakfast?" Tom finally blurts out, and it must break the ice, because Haz's closed-off face breaks into a brilliant grin.

"Sounds perfect."

*** * ***

Both realize how starving they are as soon as their feet hit the floor.  Getting dressed is an awkward and self-conscious affair---they've seen each other mostly naked before, but now they've been together all the way naked, and are they allowed to look, and how much?---but in short order they navigate down to the kitchen, both with hangovers and truly epic bedhead, and get a proper English breakfast going on, because that is the answer to all things, including your best friend blowing you in a club last night on a dare, followed by you bringing him home and fucking like monkeys.

"I....I should be going," Haz says after, rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly looking very self-conscious and very red.

"If that's what you want," Tom says calmly, because he's sober and clear-headed now, and he's not afraid of Haz, even after what he and Haz did last night (and boy, from what he remembers, they did a _lot_ ).

Haz looks hesitant now, a tiny flicker of a smile teasing at his mouth, a mouth Tom remembers kissing last night ~~and isn't entirely sure he doesn't want to kiss again~~.

"And....what if I don't want?"

Tom turns all the way to face him, bleary and tousle-haired, holding his cup of coffee.  "Then stay, Haz."

There's that assessing look again.  "What'll happen if I do?"

Tom gets the sneaking suspicion it might be time to set down his cup.  Does he dare? 

Of course he does.  "Whatever you want to."

Haz crowds him up against the counter, bracing his arms on either side but not leaning in, giving Tom an out.  "And what if I want your hot cock in my mouth again?  And then what if I want you to fuck me?  And then what if I want to fuck you?"

Tom is enormously proud of the steady voice he has when he says, "That sounds like a lot of work.  You should probably get started."

He goes to amble back toward the bedroom, but Haz grabs him, sets him up onto the counter and slides in between his legs, gazing up at him like he's this new, wondrous thing to be explored.  "Don't think you're getting out of this room anytime soon, Holland."

~~They may have had to clean the kitchen later.~~

~~It may have been worth it.~~

 

 


End file.
